
So I have these two friends. The first friend, who we’ll call Lucy, I met through the relationship Lucy had with another, very close, friend, codename Ricky. For six months the two were inseparable, eating, drinking working, and sleeping together. Honestly, if they could have shared the same oxygen they would have. They were one of those couples everyone wanted to hate but never quite could: there was a lot of lovey-dovey PDA action going on, and way too much sharing of their sex life, and yet the sincerity of each and the excitement about the relationship was so real that it surmounted the knee-jerk “eww icky!” reaction.
And then it happened. Shortly after the six-month mark, things started heading to hell in a handbasket. Ricky discovered incriminating conversations between Lucy and an ex-significant other during through the past month. Though it was questionable whether Ricky should have been checking up on Lucy in the first place, that became quickly irrelevant. The facts became the facts. There was much recrimination, followed closely by a teary breakup and a teary breakdown on Ricky’s part.
Then came the apology: Lucy came to Ricky’s friends, as intermediaries, to explain that the conversations Ricky found were a purely sexual outlet and that nothing was meant against Ricky, that Lucy still loved Ricky more than could be expressed. Given the sometimes-explicit references to Ricky contained in the conversations, I, for one, was not convinced. Still, Ricky seemed to be. The two got back together after only a few days of separation.
The reconciled relationship lacked much, if not all, of its former luster. Jealousy, though present before, reached all-time highs; both Ricky’s and Lucy’s friends were hesitant of Lucy and Ricky, respectively, and all were concerned for their mental and emotional welfare. It came almost as a relief when, two months later, the couple split for good.
The question brought to the forefront by this episode is whether or not explicit sexual relationships conducted singularly over the Internet qualify as cheating. Some would argue not: online conversations, if contained to virtual reality, are really no more than words. What physical manifestation they take on is masturbatory, with the engaging partners pleasuring themselves. Then, cyber-sex is effectively a two-way fantasy. It isn’t real sex.
Ricky would disagree. Whether or not one chooses to qualify cyber-sex as “real” sex, and consequently cyber-cheating as “real” cheating, the ramifications it can have upon discovery have many the same emotional effects as physical infidelity. In fact, the damage can be worse – the partner who was cheated on may be more inclined to forgive, seeing as how no true cheating occurred, and therefore a breakup can be dragged out for months, rather than at the time of the crime. That same partner must also question his or her own attractiveness: the cheating partner didn’t need only a source for sexual release, because were that the case then masturbation presumably could have covered it. Rather, the cheating partner sought more, sought a different source of fantasy, a different image inspiring sexual release. Major baggage.
The cheating partner is also done a disservice, whether in returning to the relationship or remaining in it through continual cheating. I understand that some people argue about “physical needs” and cheating happening independent of the person who is cheated on, but in the case of cyber-sex that argument breaks down. Perhaps physical sex can happen accidentally or without thought, but to participate in a conversation one must think, must speak. To be having thoughts – and furthermore, entertaining and expressing those thoughts – disloyal to the relationship in which one has entered implies a problem within that relationship. Not to blame the person who gets cheated on, or to condone the person who cheats, but the perfect relationship would, or at least should, disallow the possibility of needing outside sources for sex, comfort, whatever.
Thus, in honor of sex week, I speak these words of wisdom: have lots of sex. With the person you’re dating – mpt with other people, even if it is only cyber-sex. Cyber-sex is still sex, and cyber-cheating is still, in the ways that really matter, cheating.
Sara is a sophomore in Arts & Sciences. She can be reached via e-mail at [email protected].